Life at Wool's Orphanage
by Wonderrland
Summary: This is a short story of Tom Riddle's first conversation with a snake. It's not that good but still read it and comment on how I can make it better. :  I'll be adding more chapters of Tom's early life.
1. Conversations with other Species

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome young boy, since the untimely death of his mother he had been risen in an orphanage.

He had finally been allowed to mingle with the rest of the children after spending two days away from them since the incident. He didn't feel remorse for it. The boy deserved it, he shouldn't have provoked him, it was his own fault he nearly died.

Tom wasn't really sure what had happened, all he wanted was the boy to shut up and leave him alone, he though of the boy dying. He never acted upon it. But then the boy couldn't breathe. The other children said they saw Tom strangle the boy and wrestle him to the floor. So he had been punished.

He hated this place, the orphanage was cold and horrible, to him anyway and no one here understood him! He wished he could run away and never come back, but he knew better than to run away when he had nowhere else to go.

The weather was terrible today, the way he liked it; it was cold with a light shower that you could only just tell it was raining. He was sitting by a low wall, away from the others, he liked that too.

He had his legs crossed and his hand was wrapped around a small rock. In his mind he was making fun of the kids, one was really tall and fat, one had a giant nose, one girl was just fat and ugly and should go away. No one was good enough to know him. He raised his arm, ready to throw the rock when he heard someone say something behind him.

'I wish you'd move. Insolent humans …' said the voice, it was low and crackly. Tom looked at his surroundings but could see no one, he heard something hissing behind him and he turned to be met with a small, deep green snake.

He didn't know why he did it, he just did. 'Are you talking to me?' Tom asked the snake.

'Yesssss …' it replied.

'Well you could've asked nicer!' snapped Tom, he dropped the rock and grabbed the snake firmly, raising it to eyelevel.

'No one would move, if I did …'

'I might.' said Tom, tightening his grip.

'You don't seem surprissssed to be speaking with a sssnake … have you done thissss before?' it inquired.

'No.' It was true, he hadn't … but that didn't matter.

'You're an eeevil little thiiing …'

'What?'

_'Evil … but powerful_ …' whispered the snake.

Tom had no idea what was going on, this was new, but he liked it. He placed the snake onto the grass in front of him and asked, 'Will you come back to see me?'

'What _are _you doing?' the fat and ugly girl interrupted before the snake could reply, she had been listening in. 'You can't talk to animals you know.'

'_I can.'_ said Tom blatantly. He looked at her as is she was a piece of animal feces on the bottom of his shoe.

'No, all you're doing is hissing like one.' said the girl in a playful, menacing tone. 'Like a stupid little boy.' she added, climbing over the wall and standing before him.

'Shut up!' Tom shouted, getting to his feet so he was level to the girl. 'Get her! Get her! Get her!' he told the sake, the look of pure confusion and bewilderment on the girls face made him smile.

Before he knew it the snake had latched onto the end of her nose, digging his fangs deeper and deeper. She screamed as they pierced her skin, she was able to get the snake off of her and run away.

Tom's eyes seemed to be burning with amusement. A smile of only malice and evil was spread across his handsome face, making him seem older than he really was.

_'Powerful, eeevil little boy …_' he heard the snake mumbling as he slithered away.

Tom didn't care if he would be punished for this. He liked snakes now, he hoped more would find him, he liked talking to them.

Them whispering things in his ears …


	2. Sweet Threats

So, apparently at Wool's Orphanage in London you get punished more severely for setting an animal on another orphan then apparently strangling another. Or maybe it was just because it was yet another incident involving Tom and someone getting hurt. They were taking this matter more seriously too - they seemed to think Tom was having delusions about being able to talk to snakes. If he didn't stop soon they would have him looked at professionally.

So he had decided to stop for a while now, stop what exactly - he didn't know but he was trying hard not to make odd things happen when he was angry or sad.

He sat down at the breakfast table with a bowl of what they called "porridge" but was just disgusting, it shouldn't really have a name. It may have been OK for the rest of the kids to eat but Tom was above such torture by food and would sneak food out of the kitchen during the day.

As the other kids were led to pray and what not, Tom made his way to the back of the line and broke off and hid inside a store cupboard until he heard their footsteps die away. He made his way silently to the kitchen and made a small gap with the door to check if the coast was clear. There was just one person in the kitchen, the dopey woman who never noticed that food went missing.

It was time for Tom to break his "odd things happening" rule.

This was yet another thing Tom could not explain, but he could move things without touching them at times, he would use this to get food without actually stepping foot into the kitchen. He slid down against the wall and put a foot between the door and the doorframe, he craned his neck so he could see the food and thought really hard, he saw some cakes on a tray and before he could blink two were coming towards him at great speed.

He caught them in both his hands, accidentally letting his foot slip and the door slam shut. He made a run for it down the nearest corridor, turned left and ran down the next one. He was running so fast he almost ran into Borris, a boy older than him but he wasn't as tall. Borris was skinny and boring.

'Tom! What are you doing? You're not supposed to have those.' said Borris, staring at the cakes in his hands.

'So what?' said Tom, looking down at him, his eyebrows raised.

'I'll have to tell on you Tom, you're breaking the rules again.' Borris made to leave but stopped suddenly buy Tom's grip on the back of his shirt. Tom pulled him backwards and stood intimidating in front of him, toe to toe. His right hand was free, and his left had two cakes piled on top of each other, he switched them quickly before he grabbed Borris.

'I can't let you do that now, Borris.' Tom said in a slick, sleek voice.

'But .. Bu-' Borris stammered.

'No.' was all Tom said. He took a cake in his right hand and slammed it into Borris's face. He did it with such force that icing and sponge wasn't the only thing creamed into his face, there was blood from his nose too. He kicked him to the floor with his foot and stood over him.

'Now, Borris.' he addressed Borris, smiling down on him. 'If you want to make sure I don't hurt you again … because I will. You'll own up to taking the cakes. Got it?'

'Y-yes, Tom …' he agreed, tears were spilling down his face, hot and stinging once they hit the cut on his nose.

'And you're to say nothing about me hurting you, because I didn't. You got that nasty cut whilst running away from the kitchen.'

'I-I-I did?'

'Yes,' said Tom, 'you did.' He looked down on the boy with loathing. 'Good boy.' he said, as if addressing a dog. Tom walked away laughing, a high pitched, evil, cackling laugh that rang down the halls and filled every ear that passed.


	3. More Strange Incidents

Tom awoke early with a yawn, his contemptuous eyes glistening in the darkness. His eyes jumped to the spot on the floor where he had last seen the black snake, it had slid into his room through the open window and whispered evil things into his ear during the night. He thought he would've slept in later, being kept up talking to the snake and all but he didn't, he wasn't even tired. He threw the covers off of his body, got up and threw his dressing gown around him which was draped across the chair by his desk.

He walked over to his wardrobe, opened the doors and got a small box from the bottom. Tom placed it on his bed and sat down next to it. He opened up the lid and looked through the darkness at the possessions in the box. A toy Yo-yo he had taken from a boy who had gotten him into trouble a few months ago, he still didn't know where it was; a picture of someone's dead loved ones he took from someone's room, the door was open so Tom saw no reason why he wasn't allowed in there; some pocket money that wasn't his to spend and a few other bits and bobs he'd taken from people who'd deserved it.

He didn't know how long he had been staring at the box, maybe hours - he started at the loud bang on his bedroom door.

'Tom! Time to wake up.' called the Matron. It sounded like Sarah.

'One-one minute!' he replied, slamming the lid down, throwing the box into his wardrobe and shutting the doors.

'Open up Tom.' she called again.

'Alright.' he said as he turned the lock and swung open the door. _It was Sarah. _

She jump back a little at the sight of him. 'Jesus Tom!' she cried, she could never get used to his eyes, especially when they came out of the darkness or when he was giving someone a cold, calculating stare.

'I thought we weren't meant to take the Lords name in vain.' Tom mocked her, he didn't believe in all the religious stuff they pressed on you in Wool's, even though everyone who worked there knew it, they never let up on him.

'You're-you're not.' she said. 'I-I didn't mean to. Like a good Christian I will ask for forgiveness over it later. Now get your slippers.' she looked down at his clothing, it was time for breakfast and he wasn't going to eat barefoot. 'And take off that dirty dressing gown, you're not going down dressed like that.'

'Yes, Ma'am.' said Tom, he slammed the door shut and sat down on the floor. He ignored the shouts coming from the hall to open up, she took to a last resort of opening to door herself, but before she could put one foot inside the door was thrown closed and the door locked. _They should know better than to make me angry _he thought. He wasn't going to take off his dressing gown, but he would put slippers on, the floor was cold and it was freezing his feet. He wasn't stupid.

He skulked down the dining hall, his temper was rising when he got stares from people, he sat down at the end of the third table - people still shuffled their chairs away from him even though they were at the other end of the table. He unnerved everyone, especially today, his eyes were positively brewing today.

'Master Riddle!' he heard Sarah scream from behind him. It was just a bloody dressing gown, he didn't understand what was so important about it, the other kids knew he wore it.

He let out a sigh as he turned in his chair to see her make her way through the crowd of youngsters toward him. 'What?' he asked with a little too much attitude.

'Don't say "what" in that horrid tone.' she snapped at him once she was standing beside his chair. 'Give it to me Tom.' Sarah said, with an outstretched arm.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Of course you do, give me your dressing gown. It needs to be washed, then you can have it back.'

A chorus of sniggering and "Tom's a dirty boy" sounded around the dining hall. He clenched his fists under the table.

'Tom, be a good boy and give me the dressing gown. They'll stop once you do.' Sarah pressed as the tittering got louder.

'No.' Tom said under his breath.

'What did you say?'

'I said _NO!_' he yelled at her as he pushed his chair back, scraping the floor and stood abruptly. As suddenly as this had happened something else did too, every glass in the room exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere and people hiding as to not get hurt.

He ran out of the room as every beady eye from the floor was on him, judging him when they had no right to. He would be in trouble for this, he knew it, he didn't even touch the glasses, he hadn't touched anyone. They couldn't blame him for it, not really, they had no proof - but they would. They always did. Not that he cared that much, when he was punished it was more like being praised, he would be alone, away from the stinking children of the orphanage. Plus, most of the time snakes would find him and whisper things to him. The told him it wouldn't be long before he did something memorable in this place, something more evil than making odd things happen. Tom was never sure how they knew all of this, he never thought to ask, he didn't think he believed them anyway. What do snakes know anyhow?


	4. An Unknown Rocky Horror

He walked up to the new kids, they hadn't yet seen him do anything strange so they hadn't yet shunned him completely on what others said about him. He greeted them with a friendly "Hello", which they returned with more enthusiasm then he had felt his whole life in this place put together.

'Do you guys want to go somewhere cool?' he asked with a fake smile of a curious little boy and not the sinister little man he was becoming.

'Um … sure. Where is it?' asked the middle of the boys, he was a plump boy with dirty blonde hair that hung just below his ears.

'There's a cave by the beach, it's safe, I checked it out the other day before you even came here. It's really cool.'

'I-I'm not sure, Tom. It could be dangerous.' piped another.

'Oh, the _cave_ isn't dangerous.' he assured them. 'I promise you, you'll regret it if you don't come.' he added, staring deeply into their eyes.

There was a few second of muttering between them as they came to a decision. 'We'll come.' said the first boy with a nod. Tom smiled at them, his powers of persuasion worked - they always did with the weak ones.

As he lead them through the garden, over the gate and down to the cave, Tom was getting stronger inside with every step. He'd noticed he had been getting stronger recently with each passing day. He felt it working its magic inside of him all the time, bubbling to be brought to the surface. _Oh, it will … it will be shown _he thought as they climbed the rocks and made their way into the darkness of the cave.

It had gotten dark by the time Tom made it up to the house. He was bombarded with questions from many matrons, many he didn't recognise. But he didn't really hear what they were saying, what they were asking. His mind wasn't right, it was somewhere far away, somewhere dark. His eyes must've shown that because when he finally looked up at them, most of them started with fright.

Once he made it up to his room and locked the door, he lied down on his bed in the dark abyss, his eyes felt as though they were burning into his skull - it didn't pain him, in fact … he smiled. His sight trickled down to his hands and saw blood. He began to vigorously rub them on his trousers until they too were burning red, he let them flop beside his body as his mind drifted away …


End file.
